Two birds in the mare's nest
by BloodyBlow
Summary: Trevor/Michael. The events are taking place after the complited GTA V main mission (3 option). Trevor and Michael got into trouble and have to deal with new enemies. While doing it,they are improving their relationship, which is reaching a new stage. How will all this stuff affect their lives? Will they be together in the end?


The First Chapter.

Passing by the full-breasted strippers in gaudy costumes and some beastly drunk middle-aged customers, Michael suddenly realized that he wasn't a man who had found his way in life. He wasn't happy being here, making his way through the crowded room, full of head spinning smoke and tasteless music. As well as he wouldn't be content at home this evening, watching TV, listening Amanda talking about her new tantric-whatever instructor, and never suspecting his kids to go downstairs and have a chat with the father. The only thing that appeared to please him was hanging out with old Solomon, a famous film producer. But Michael didn't use to meet him in the evenings; besides, there weren't any good scripts at the moment to start making a move.

Not wanting to have a row with the family members, the dissatisfied man would come at the Vanilla Unicorn more and more often, sometimes for a strip-tease but usually for getting some booze with his fellow. Talking about the latter, Trevor, with the ecstatic face, was just syringing something into his vein, as Michael opened the door of the back room for the administration.

"Oh, man, this again", Michael threw up his hands. "That is why you have a chronic depression".

"Depression?" Trevor discarded the squirt. "If I got any, that's because I have to sit here, doing fucking nothing, not to make your asses got into a mess".

"Calm down, T. You are still running your strip club business and "Trevor Philips Enterprises". And this is going to cause enough problems, which you want", he claimed, taking a beer out of the fridge and sitting on the sofa near the buddy.

"Well, maybe you are right", Trevor reluctantly agreed. "So… How is your family?"

Michael sighed deeply and then took a swig.

"You know, Tracey is preparing to enter Los Santos College of Arts after all. She wanna be a star".

"Really?.. That's… just great", Trevor sniffed and, for some reason, slipped the hand into his pants. "So, is she taking any dance courses or something?"

"Actually, she is only banging with some motherfuckers who may help her with their connections". Michael grinned and took out a cigarette, for what he was been given a disapproving look.

"Well, it's not that bad, Mikey. At least, she is planning to get something in return", his pal observed.

"What are you talking about?.. Do you mean Amanda's cheating on me again? " Michael frowned and pulled out a cigarette, burning a little hole in the sofa's upholstery. "Damn, you're right! You should have seen her new fuckin' instructor!.."

"Man, you are such a chubby cry-baby! It looks like it's you who have a depression here. And I know what could help to cheer you up". He leaned across the table with these crazy excited eyes.

"Oh, come off it, T! I'm not going to take meth".

"Who's talking about meth? We need to be back in business", he struck his hand on the table.

Michael stood up and approached his fellow, "Come on! We are done with it. Even Franklin's decided to turn over a new leaf, Trevor".

Friends had been talking about this subject many times, but T just couldn't give it up so easily. All stuff they had done with Ron seemed to be petty now, and all this short time they rarely had with Michael just getting drunk wasn't enough, not saying about Franklin, who appeared even more seldom.

"Franklin", Trevor smiled crookedly. "This damn asshole! He is just too fucking good for us, but that Business or Whatever school is perfectly fits him! Stuffed with shitty morons, studying to be ass kissers!"

"Buddy, calm down", Michael gently tapped him on the shoulder. "The dude just doesn't want to end up like we did".

There was a strange pause, in which two men heard some people drawing near the door. One of them was certainly a woman wearing high-heeled shoes, which were chattering clearly. The door opened slightly, and then a pretty-pretty blond-haired secretary lady that had been hired by Trevor, partly showed herself leaning forward and asked if some visitors with a business proposal could come in. As the lady heard boss's consent, she disappeared leaving the door open, and after a while two young Chinese men crossed the threshold.

It seemed, time slowed down, and Michael noticed the one man reaching his hand for something in his leather coat's inner pocket and then taking out a gun. Thanks to an old habit, Michael had always brought the pistol with himself, so he grabbed it and shot a bullet right between stranger's eyes. As he fell on the floor, Trevor had been already firing at the second man enjoying himself.

It was too easy but rather unexpected, and two fellows didn't manage to understand what had happened, before the muted sound of explosion was heard. Roaring, Trevor rushed out of the room, while Michael was briefly examining the corpses. He ran out after some time and hid proactively near the bar, since Trevor was firing from the shot-gun in different directions in a temper. In fact, there were none enemies in the room, just some scared shitless people, who were sitting under the tables and in the corners, as well as there were some dead bodies, including an almost naked stripper with a torn bright yellow bra.

After the cloud of dust had settled and Trevor had dropped on his knees, holding his head tightly, people began to escape, while irritated Michael stood up and asked curtly what Trevor had done wrong this time.

"Oooh, Mikey, don't shift the blame onto me! I'm the victim here!" He rose and wiped sweat from his face. "I fucking don't know! It must have been some business rivals or so! Damn motherfuckers!"

"Okay, than why did I find this shit?" Michael inquired, extending his hand with a lying origami bird on it.

"What the hell, man?" Trevor trifled the thing with knitted brows. "It's… just a piece of stupid paper!"

"Well, one of the kamikazes was holding it in his hand. By the way, do you know which tattoo's been marked on his wrist? " Michael asked.

"No. I don't have any goddamn idea".

"Revenge".

"Oh, well, it explains everything", Trevor folded his arms. "If this little lovely bird and the meaningful tattoo are really-really connected with this incident… So, then we got to search for some Chinese that have a grunge against us".

"Like Wei Cheng and his son, then?"

"Yeah, like dead Wei Cheng and his dead son", Trevor sighed. "I should fucking think something out before the cops arrive… Or just cut and run. The latter sounds quite fine, c'mon!" And he moved through the partly destroyed wall.

"That is fucking serious, Trevor! Everything has just begun to get right with my family…"

'Oh, really?" he opened the car's door and sat behind the wheel.

"All right, but I don't want to risk", Michael were fidgeting in his seat, while Trevor started the engine. "We need to deal with it quickly. Take me to Franklin, T, and then drive to Lester, he may find something".

Trevor turned to the road and switched on the radio.

"Great idea. So, what should I say to him?.. Or is showing the origami figure enough, hmm?"

"Well, making the origami figure is quite unusual for the US gangs, man. Even more, you can say that these guys both have red dragon tattoos on the back of the neck". Michael took out his cellphone. "I'm calling Franklin. Hope, he's awake".

"Hi, homie, what's up?" trying to get into business, Franklin still sounded like a ghetto boy.

"Heeey, Franklin! I just want to tell you I'm going to arrive in an hour or something", he sounded exaggeratedly happy.

"What the problem, dude?.."

"Well, nothing special. Just… be careful". Michael rang off not to hear that Franklin had been kinda retired or something.

"Do you really think this damn boy will join us?" Trevor hemmed.

"He will help in some way, I'm sure".

After setting down Michael near Franklin's in Vinewood Hills, Trevor made his way to Lester. He switched over to Channel X and turned up the volume. Honestly, he was quite delighted with the idea of working with his old fellow, though it wasn't connected with heists. He didn't even feel apprehensive about the whole situation but excited and full of energy.

Some time ago Trevor had forgiven Michael sincerely, and since that moment his obsession with making something bigger had included his buddy somehow. The way Trevor was attached to his Mikey is hard to be conveyed, but they were certainly connected by intimate subconscious bond with each other as fate had willed.

"What the", T barked out when his mobile phone began to vibrate.

He took it out from his muddy jeans, which had some little holes in very specific places, and got the text message. It was Ron, reporting that they had pulled all drugs in the batch as had been planned. In the end he added some suspicious Chinese hobos had been hanging around Trevor's trailer for some time.

"Don't even think to get into mine's or I'll make your insides outsides, old friend. And don't fucking let Wade to come there too". T answered remembering the detonation at the Vanilla Unicorn.

Knowing Ron was frightened of him in a rage, Trevor was kind of sure that nobody would entrance his trailer. At least, nobody of his friends.

By this time, Trevor had been already driving up to Lester's, located at Murrieta Heights. He left the car right in the middle of the road, not bothering about parking it, and with clenched fists directed his steps toward the back entrance in the house.

"Don't make me fucking angry, Lester!" He was knocking vigorously at the door. "I know you are here! Jerking off…"

"Calm down, Trevor. I can hear you". He sounded composed but wasn't sure about letting the guy inside. "So, tell me, have you come here to kill me or something?"

"What?.. What kind of an animal do you think I am? I've just been sent here by damn Mikey, let me fucking in", Trevor shook his fist at the camera.

"It's your luck, Molester, that I'm in the good mood", the man whispered after the door had opened, and he came in.

The fully furnished room, where Lester was sitting at the desk in front of several monitors, which were almost the only source of light, was dim, and the familiar pong, spreading through it, immediately reached Trevor's nose.

"So", offhandedly started Lester, not managing to turn around. "What has eventually led to this decent?"

After flopping down onto a slightly greasy checked couch, Trevor leaned against its back with his legs wide apart and blew his nose into some sheet of paper he had picked up.

"I hope you haven't used my documents for doing this, buddy".

"Nooo".

"Well… right. So what exactly do you all want?" Lester asked tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

It didn't take too long for Trevor to set forth the situation, mentioning that it was Michel who had started a panic because of two greenhorn gangsters. It's not unexpected at all that Lester wasn't ecstatic with the idea of helping unselfishly, making no profit; but as T gave him one of this baleful looks he merely decided to make a virtue of necessity. He had been scanning the origami bird for some time, asked some questions about dragon tattoos and started browsing some databases.

"So, I heard Franklin is out of the game too now", Lester said drawling from time to time.

"Well, you know what?.. They all are returning, these prodigal sons", Trevor insisted sniggering. "Michel is just going to pieces with this normal life, which only makes him useless and miserable. He felt the freedom again, and right since this moment it has always been in his mind". The man bent abruptly, placing hands on his knees. "And Franklin. He's just like other "n" morons. Crime is in his fucking blood, he can't go against nature".

"Anyway, fate will define their ways in the end".

"Oh, it certainly will", Trevor crossed his legs and looked over a room again. "And what about you? Still spying on girls trough their webcams, you, fucking pervert?"

"The pot calls the kettle black", Lester mumbled.

"What have you just said?"

"I've said I got some information you'd like to know".

Driving back home at dawn, watching street lighting flashing by aside the road, Michael was recalling his conversation with Franklin vividly. His pal became dismal and irritated straight away as he heard about the Chinese, the revenge and the explosion, as it was like a bolt from the blue for him. The fact is Franklin couldn't even help swearing constantly while telling about the Wei Cheng's death. No one had been left there, thanks to sticky bombs. And if there had been any witnesses alive, which was quite doubtful, they could say nothing because of a mask. In any case, Franklin hasn't seen any suspicious people recently and honestly admitted that he had met a perfect lady Lisha, with whom he had thought to live together but not running with a gun around shooting the Chinese.

Michael understood this position, finding some similarities with his own young life. But he couldn't just let Franklin go, he needed some help.

"Listen, man", he had said harshly. "I don't want to ruin your game, but we may need you, I may need you. Look, possibly, this goddamn bustards only know me and Trevor. And if we have some thorny problems because of this shit, I want you to look after my family. I don't know… to travel somewhere, may be. And don't bother about dough, I'll organize everything. Just… just think it over. What is better: being in Los Santos, where Trevor can accidentally or deliberately put the Chinese on your trail, or being somewhere in Europe with my family?"

"Oh, man, I don't know what's fucking better", Franklin shook his head. "But… what the hell, I'm always here if you have some real damn problems, dog".

"So, is it yes?"

"I ain't any real choice, man".

And now Michel didn't have any idea how Trevor would react. Apparently, he would be more then displeased, noting that Michael was thinking only about himself or something like that.

And as you remember someone that can make you tense, this person inevitably appears, like Trevor, who has just called his friend to tell some news.

"Hi there", answered Michel trying to seem quite confident. "What have you found out?"

"Well, Lester identified this Chinese as members of Red Dragons gang - for our surprise - which den's located somewhere in Graville, province of Macande, Canada", Trevor reported with boredom, and Michel heard someone horning at the other side of the phone. "Undoubtedly, these numbskulls are making it much easier being the marked targets".

Michael restrained himself for sighing and asked, "Something more about the gang?"

"For now, it's controlling a large area in the town, but there are some strong rivals and all. Extortion, prostitution, heroin, that is their main spheres", Trevor broke off and cleared his throat.

"Okay, T, I got it. And what about the origami bird?"

"Nothing. It's just a common thing which anybody could do".

"I see", Michael was a little bit puzzled, because he had thought there would be more about this clue.

"And what do ya have, Mikey, ah?"

The man decided lies weren't worth it and answered frankly, "I've seen our boy. And I have persuaded him to take care of my family. Just in case".

"Oh… So, it's because of you he won't fight with us like in old good times?" Trevor raised his voice pugnaciously.

"Don't you worry, it was totally his intention not to be in this business anymore", he snorted. "Okay, Trevor, listen, I'm going to check my family now, and then we will figure something out." And he hung up.

Michel was driving faster and faster as he was approaching to his house closer, he felt anxious for seeing Amanda, Jimmy and Tracey doing Okay, merely sleeping in their beds. That's why making sure everything was fine with the family became the first thing he did after he had arrived.

A little bit later, he was already strolling over the lower floor with a whisky. The man was recollecting that he had reckoned his life had been sad and boring recently; but now it was rather nail-biting. This thought made him grin. Sometimes you just get what you have asked for, however, not in the way you would prefer it to be given. Like it had happened in North Yankton.

Michel moved close to the new wooden table, standing in the living room, and picked out some bills.

"Pilates, video game console, Bonsai…What the fuck" he just threw them back briefly looking at the bonsai tree standing on the metal round chair in the corner.

"A person without any work can just go damn crazy", Michael stretched and yawned, going forward.

May be for no reason, and may be for catching a glimpse of something white lying near the neat tree, he suddenly turned around; it took him a few steps to reach the chair, on which an origami bird was placed.

"Ooooh, shit!"


End file.
